


A Million Years

by Ebyru



Series: inspired by games [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-18
Updated: 2012-06-18
Packaged: 2017-11-08 01:04:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/437433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebyru/pseuds/Ebyru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel's only reason for leaving their bed is to follow Dean.</p><p>Excerpt: "Their held hands stay flat against the mattress on either side of the hunter. Lips never stop moving, exploring, and Castiel gives Dean a little of what he needs in return for being so pliant."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Million Years

**Author's Note:**

> un-beta'd. Pwp-ish, I suppose.

They’ve been in bed for the entire day. Castiel likes cuddling, but Dean only allows it if he can mess up the angel’s hair a bit more at the same time. 

They’re wrapped around each other, legs overlapping, fingers scraping down bare arms and backs, and lips moving in languid, soft motions. Dean likes the feel of Castiel’s hair tangled around his fingers, so he keeps his hand buried at the back of the angel’s head. Castiel likes touching all of Dean, so he does just that. Long digits slide down Dean’s biceps, across his chest, press against the beat of his heart, follow the muscles in his stomach, squeeze at a firm thigh, trail across his behind, and rest at the small of the hunter’s back.

Dean likes all of it, so he pulls away, whispering exactly that into the angel’s neck. Castiel hums sweetly, rolling his hips when Dean shifts. He moves again to press his hardening length against Castiel’s thigh, trying to get the message across. Castiel understands, but he wants to take it slow. He wants to enjoy it for hours. Maybe he even wants Dean to beg. _Maybe_.

Their fingers interlock when Castiel wiggles closer, rolling Dean onto his back. Their held hands stay flat against the mattress on either side of the hunter. Lips never stop moving, exploring, and Castiel gives Dean a little of what he needs in return for being so pliant. His hips grind inward, his back curving with each movement, and Dean gasps, breathing sensual sounds into each kiss. Castiel devours them, collects them like pets, murmuring filth in Enochian that he hopes Dean will recognize one day.

_ I want to lick every inch of you. I want to swallow your cock until you cry out. I want your skin to burn when you imagine what I do to you the next day, and every day after that. _

Castiel knows Dean can’t understand, but he continues to say it all the same. Dean writhes when Castiel’s rolls become sinewy, tense. The head of Dean’s cock catches against the jut of Castiel’s hip in their frenzy. Their boxers do nothing to stop the heady scents from seeping through, the arousal to drip out of Dean. Castiel could bathe in the scent of it. It’s not what an angel should think, what he should do. But it’s what Castiel wants. And will always want. _Dean_.

Dean’s grip tightens around Castiel’s fingers, his hands shaking while his hips buck up, searching for purchase against the barrier of fabric between them.

_ Please, Cas. Please. Please. Just let me come.  _

_ Please.  _

_ Touch me. Fuck me. Taste me. Have me. Take me.  _

_ Love me. _

Castiel growls at the string of thoughts, primal and raw, forcing Dean’s boxers down to his thighs and stroking him to completion. Dean’s cry is silent at first, but the orgasm that continues to punch through him forces out a sound so intimate, so beautiful that Castiel comes as well. Dean rolls his angel off of him, covering him in kisses so tender it makes Castiel want to spend the rest of his existence in bed with this man. And he would, if Dean were not so responsible and selfless. He has no qualm with being a lazy, sex-starved nerd-angel, as Dean so lovingly calls him.

Dean is close to falling asleep, and Castiel remembers a card game he and Sam played not long ago.

“I will not allow you to be an old maid,” Castiel whispers. He pets Dean’s hair when the hunter snorts out a laugh.

“Does that mean you want to marry me, Cas?” Dean is still laughing as he asks, knowing exactly where his angel got these crazy ideas from.

“It does,” Castiel admits, touching Dean’s cheek. “If you wish to—”

“Of course!” Dean cuts in. He pins Castiel under his weight and cups his face as he kisses the air from his lungs. “Besides, you’ll be the one trying to escape me after a couple of years, man.” Dean jokes.

“Not even after a million of your years,” Castiel corrects. There’s a twinkle in his blue eyes only for Dean Winchester.


End file.
